


ARTS AND CRAFTS

by cigarettestainedeyes



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettestainedeyes/pseuds/cigarettestainedeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vic needs Alison to trust him, he needs to get closer to her in order to get information. He also needs to get his head in the game. (might become multi-chaptered if inspiration hits/people enjoy)</p>
            </blockquote>





	ARTS AND CRAFTS

**Author's Note:**

> Alison and Vic have this interesting dynamic between them I have come to absolutely love. I really hope it's explored on the show.

Alison knows Vic shouldn’t be trusted. He doesn’t know anything about the shit they’re all dealing with but he’s connected to Sarah so it’s only a matter of time before someone’s hounding him for information, if they aren’t already. He doesn’t believe her when she looks right at him and says that they’re clones. He almost laughs. It’s small enough to make her insides light with rage. Anything will set her off these days. She blames the rehab.

So she sets a plan in motion. Doilies. It’s innocent, misleading, could be seen as her giving in to his ploy. She just needs to talk to him, to keep prying and getting under his skin. Donnie’s visits only distract her from focusing on Vic, and getting the hell out of rehab. She needs a Xanax and half a bottle of Reisling. She’s not getting either, unfortunately, and it creates a dull ache right in the center of her forehead.

The meetings where she’s supposed to talk about her feelings are pointless to her. She doesn’t want to talk to these people. She would talk to one person, maybe her therapy counselor or Vic if he asked. Maybe.

Vic finds Alison sitting at one of the tables in the shared common room, trying to cut designs into construction paper. Vic walks over to her and she looks up and smiles tightly in acknowledgement. He still intimidates her, he notes it in the way her back straightens and her eyes avert to the side. She’s short one hand and without her bottle of mace -- probably feels vulnerable. He doesn’t want her to be scared.

“There’s glue in the supply closet.” She says to him without looking up.

“Okay.”

Vic goes over to the closet on the other side of the room, flicking on the light when he enters. He stops but doesn’t look around. He focuses rather on the small size of the room and how the door has a lock on the inside. He needs to make leaps with Alison, needs her to crack fast in order to get through this shit with Detective Bitch and focus on his own rehabilitation.

He goes back to Alison and asks her to help him. She does that stuttered eye roll thing that Sarah does and it makes Vic suck on the inside of his cheek. She pushes herself into a standing position and briskly walks over to the closet.

He lets her go inside first before following. He shuts the door behind them, clicks it locked.

Alison whirls around, ponytail whipping in the process but Vic is right in front of her immediately, walking forward abruptly, causing Alison to back up without meaning to.

“He-Hey!” She snaps, eyebrows lowering in confusion and anger. “What the hell, Victor --”

One of her hands is in a sling, so it’s not hard to grab the other and hold it down and press his body against Alison’s. She’s gasping as he pushes her back, trying to struggle and shaking a little but Vic doesn’t look in her eyes, he can’t. His face comes towards hers and her eyes snap shut, then open again. She’s defenseless but she doesn’t say stop. He still can’t look at her eyes. He focuses on her mouth and how it’s directly below his, how she keeps opening it and then biting down on her lip, like maybe that’ll stop him, like maybe he won’t try anything.

“Vic-”

He takes the opportunity and presses his mouth against hers. She’s still tugging her arm, trying to wrench her wrist from Vic’s hand but he’s strong, he can hold her. Her restrained hand is pushing from where it’s pressed in between them but Vic’s other hand is low on her hip, traveling around and gripping right above her ass to pull her forward against him. On Sarah, this makes her melt. She told him about the shooting tingles that flood over the base of her spine, how warmth spreads up her chest and throat.

Alison doesn’t mean to push back into his hold but Vic’s shifting his hips closer and pushing hers back into the shelves of pipe cleaners and sticker pads, kids scissors with safety edges and sparkle glue -- so there it was. His hand squeezes and Alison lets out a noise against his mouth, one she doesn’t mean to. He moves his mouth, opening it and licking along the inside of her bottom lip.

Alison turns her head away, Vic’s lips meeting the softness of her cheek. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and she shivers. Her hands are still and she’s not looking at him. For the first time, he wants to see her eyes.

“I’m married.” She says quietly, breathlessly but swallows and increases the authority in her voice during the next part. “This isn’t about Donnie though, not at all. This is about me being honorable to my commitments. Even though Donnie and I don’t see eye to eye right now, even though he’s a lousy spy, I won’t be unfaithful. I won’t add it to the list.”

She looks right at him then and her eyes seem brilliantly green even though he knows they’re yellow-green, just like Sarah’s.He lets her go, moves back a few inches. He liked the kiss, he liked the way Alison moved under his hands, the tightness of her muscles. She was sporty and spazzy and nothing like Sarah at all.

“I’m sorry...fuck.” He wipes the edge of his mouth with his thumb. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He meets Alison’s eyes calmly. “I just...there’s still so much uncertainty right now, and you’re being really nice and I took advantage of that.”

“I’m not nice.” She immediately says to him, eyes flickering down to the floor.

Vic takes a step toward her. “Hey, look...I’m not nice. I know that. But you, you’re a good person, Alison. You’re strong and involved with your community and a good mother, a good wife.”

She lets out a small snort and he reaches out and touches her sling. She recoils a little, turns her body away but he fixes her with a hard stare, and she turns back towards him after a few seconds. He doesn’t touch her hand this time, but pokes a finger in beside it. He feels the sharpness of a blade and pinches it between his fingers. He removes a makeshift shiv from her sling. It’s a pencil, a rubber band, and a small blade, probably taken from the janitors closet.

“You’re also dangerous, Alison. You’re creative and cunning and difficult to fool.”

No one had ever called her dangerous before. She swallowed again, looking into his eyes. He was close again but it wasn’t unnerving this time. She felt understood, equal for once and kind of wanted him to kiss her again.

“Focus on your rehab, Alison. Get out of here, back to your family.” He slipped the shiv into her hand, curling his fingers against hers for a brief moment before turning and walking over to the door, unlocking it and leaving the closet.

He poked his head back in, a small grin on his face. “Don’t forget the glue.”

Alison snapped out of her thoughts and shot him a glare.


End file.
